


Azula's New Groove

by TalesOfOnyxBats



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emperor's New Groove - Freeform, Gen, Humor, Parody, Retelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25298356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesOfOnyxBats/pseuds/TalesOfOnyxBats
Summary: Literally The Emperor's New Groove except it's Azula and her serving girl.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Azula's New Groove

As any good story does, this one begins with a koala-sheep, a talking koala-sheep crying in the rain. A vividly silver-blue flash of lightning brightens the jungle, reminding the koala-sheep of what she has lost. Because this particular koala-sheep can not only talk, but also bend lightning. The koala-sheep knows this but has forgotten such in her overwhelming mental distress. 

Such turmoil is the product of a rather massive ego taking a blow twice its size. 

Thunder rumbles, echoing through the trees as rain soaks the wool of the koala-sheep. The camera pans in on the pathetic creature and then it quickly pans out because, have you seen a wet koala!? Those things are horrifying. What is more horrifying is a koala that is also a sheep. 

For the sake of a good story, the camera pans back in. The koala-sheep continues to weep to herself as the downpour intensifies. Beneath the jungle’s canopy and with such a heavy curtain of rain, the koala-sheep resides in the semi-dark upon a miniature island--a small hill surrounded by floodwater. 

She looks up at the camera, but does not see it. She is alone. Completely and totally isolated beneath a fluttering curtain of spanish moss and dangling ivies. 

But this is not where our story beings, dear readers. The story begins in a much more opulent setting. There is a montage here, but our main character isn’t much of a dancer and, despite her graceful firebending, she had tripped during its filming so the montage was cut. 

And so we begin with two old women. Lo looks up at Azula. Azula who is a human being and not a very emotionally tormented koala-sheep. “Fire Lord Azula, it is time to choose your husband.” 

“Every Fire Lord needs a harem.” Li adds. 

Azula glowers down from her seat. As nice as a harem sounds, her options are limited to Kei Lo, Jet, Chan, Sokka, and Zuko. Azula narrows her eyes at Zuko. “Is this the line for the bathroom?” he asks.

“No.” Lo answers.

“It is the line…” Li adds.

“To be your sister’s husband.” They finish together. 

Zuko’s face scrunches in disgust. “These poor men.” He shows himself out. 

Azula climbs down from her perch to inspect the miscreants more closely. “I don’t like your face.” She says of Kei Lo. “You are a fuckboi, too much testosterone, and let me guess, you’ve got a good sense of humor.” She points at Jet, Chan, and Sokka in turn. She turns back to Lo and Li, “is this really all you have for me?” She doesn’t see TyLee in this group of suitors. 

“Well, we could have done better.” Lo admits. 

“But there was a doilie convention in the capital.” Li continues. 

“We just had to attend.” Lo confesses and holds up a small, oblong doilie made of red lace.

“It will be perfect for our sacrificial alter.” Li adds. 

“Your what?” Azula quirks a brow, suddenly rather intrigued. 

“Our coffee table.” They say in unison. 

“Red lace goes nice with polished cherrywood.” Li points out. 

“And it will go wonderfully with our ritual dagg--our ruby encrusted teacups.” Lo flashes a toothless smile. 

While they ramble on and on, trying to keep their occult practices a secret, it is best to show you readers our other main character. One of the several people involved in dismantling the Fire Lord’s life as she had known it.

Her name is Yoiko, some time ago she had been the servant specifically designated to hold up a bowl of cherries for the Fire Lord. That is still her job but she has been furloughed because the Fire Lord has found out that cherries aren’t supposed to make your mouth burn and your throat close up. She has yet to decide on another fruit to replace the cherries that she is allergic too. Mangos are too large and grapes are cliche. 

Newly unemployed, Yoiko finds her way back to the Fire Nation palace. She clears her throat, “Excuse me. I'm here to see Fire Lord Azula. You see, this morning I received an order to…”

The guard cuts him off. “She’s waiting in her throne room. Up six flights of stairs, make three lefts, and then take another flight of stairs down one floor, grab a knife from the kitchen, hand it to Lo and Li, and…”

“I’m not here for the ritual. And I know how to get to the throne room.” 

“Right, yes.” The guard replies with an awkward cough. 

As Yokio passes she nearly trips over a cabbage.

“My cabbages!” He declares. 

Yoiko, deciding to earn herself some virtue points so that she may look holier than thou, picks up the cabbage and hands it to the man with a kind, “here you go.” Though it might just be that she is actually a genuinely nice person. 

“Thank you.” The cabbage merchant says. 

“You're welcome.” Yoiko smiles. She has to smile before she speaks with Azula and finds herself unable to smile for the next week or so. “Are you okay?” She asks the merchant. “What happened?” Yoiko expects to hear a story about how the merchant had thrown off Azula’s groove. Heaven knows, she has run into quite some trouble for accidentally interrupting Azula’s very rigid daily routines. 

Instead the man says, “I ran into the Avatar.” He shudders. “Evil, evil little arrow headed, ‘pacifist’, monk. And that lemur…” he shudders with a deeper chill coursing through him. “It’s beady little eyes, they stare into your soul. And have you heard its chitters, they’re like the screams of a thousand cabbages.”

Yoiko blinks, she has never heard a cabbage scream. “Well I’m going to see the Fire Lord, not the Avatar.”

“Don’t look into its eyes!”

“I’ve looked into her eyes before.” Yoiko shrugs. “Several times. Most of the time they’re all judgemental and…”

“No! Not the Fire Lord’s! The lemur’s!”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Do you need help collecting the rest of your cabbages? I have a few minutes before I need to speak with the Fire Lord.” Yoiko offers. 

Azula finds her never ending supply of kindness rather appalling. She does not see this small act of kindness, but she senses it. She senses it and it chills her to the core. But nothing is more chilling than our next character.

“And what brings you to the palace?” Zhao asks.

“Well, your highness, I mean...wait, what is your title?” Asks the peasant. 

Zhao scowls. A scowl that Azula has long since grown to resent. She looks upon it as she enters the throne room,  _ her  _ throne room. It is a hideous scowl that nearly draw attention away from his obnoxiously groomed sideburns and his collection of wrinkles. Admiral Zhao potantly reminds Azula that man is descended from monkeys. What is more is that the man looks like a corpse. He has the pallor and droopy eyes of one.

Next to him stands former Fire Lord Ozai. He had lost to Aang during Sozin’s comet while Azula had won her Agni Kai. Fully anticipating to beat a twelve year old marshmallow of a boy, Ozai had handed his daughter his former title.

Decidedly, if he couldn’t manage to beat a twelve year old, he is not fit to run the Fire Nation. So Azula had kept the title for herself and her father could do nothing about it save for snarl at her and remind her that the Avatar will come to dethrone her shortly and put Zuko on the throne.

What Ozai is unaware of is that Zuzu does not want the throne, he has a musical career to think about and she has already made a deal with the Avatar to keep him from being a pest. 

Azula has noticed that her father, brimming with resentment, has suddenly grown rather fond of Zhao. Zhao who goes through right hand men like Zuko goes through hyperfixations. Azula imagines that Ozai will be tossed aside by the time Zuko finishes his mumble rap obsession.

Azula looks from Zhao to the peasant that he is currently quarreling with. 

“But I need food and shelter, I have six children!”

This is the kind of dispute that is usually brought to Azula so that she may dismiss the needy man. Instead, Zhao steals what should have been her line, “you should have thought of that before you became peasants!” He adds a devilish chuckle for good measure before dismissing the man. 

“Peasants are tiresome.” Azula remarks, “it’s a shame you don’t have someone else to deal with them, right?”

“Absolutely correct!” Zhao agrees. 

Azula clears her throat. “That would be me, Zhao. Your Fire Lord. The one who gets to call people peasants.” 

Zhao cuts her a nervous glance. “Right, yes, your majesty.” But Azula has heard more than enough. “You see, it isn’t such a big deal, I was just trying to, ah, free up your busy schedule, so you can go out and have fun with your friends.” 

Azula’s eyes narrow. “I like my busy schedule and this is fun for me. There is nothing funner than telling peasants that their needs mean nothing and that their gods can’t protect them from me.” She leaves out that she no longer has friends.

One of Azula’s servants emerges, “Yoiko is here to speak with you.”

“Lovely.” She smiles. This is the very peasant she has been hoping to terrorize. “And you can show yourself out, you are fired!” She holds her chin up and folds her arms over her chest. She has banished far too many people, so this time she will settle for only firing Zhao. 

Her eyes narrow further as she recalls that she had banished Lo. And further still when she recalls that Zhao is supposed to be dead. She squints at the man; yes he is supposed to be dead. That might explain why he looks like something ten years deceased. 

Yes, she has made the right decision in firing him.

“But, princes--Fire Lord Azula, I have been more than loyal to the Fire Nation for decades…”

She thinks that it might have been a few centuries. She looks upon that appalling face, yes definitely centuries. 

“I even destroyed the moon…”

“In other words, you have had your moment of glory, it is time to show yourself out.” She looks upon her throne. “You’re even sitting on  _ my  _ throne!”

“I was just keeping it warm for you!”

Azula scowls for nothing is worse than sitting upon a chair that radiates the warmth of someone else’s buttocks. She thinks that this warrants banishment but she is in a merciful mood. “Go on, get out, I’ve got peasant matters to deal with.”

Perhaps she would have banished him if she had known what was to come.


End file.
